She Still Looks For Me

 A millisecond is less than an eye blink. Science-y people can address this in greater detail and in ways I cannot fathom. My sociology/criminology degree only goes so far. 

What I do know is this: in the instant registering victory or failure, my daughter looks for me. In a moment demanding response, my girl checks to see I am there. 

It’s quicker than the catch of a pop-up. Or its drop. Faster than a solid hit. Or the last swing of a strike out. More rapid than a stolen base. Or bunt. Or getting called out.

It is an infinitesimal shift disguised as a glance. To find me. To make sure I see her. And I am there. I see her. Every time.

I can write a bunch more words about all this - lord knows I have that capacity and inclination. But somehow this particular exchange between us seems sacred and I will honor it.

Very soon she’ll realize she can validate her own self and doesn’t need my presence nor approval. It’s going to absolutely crush and delight me in equal parts.

That time is nearer than I’d like but that’s how this all works. I adore the honor of watching her evolve and grow. Even as she moves beyond me…because, oh, that’s the good stuff right there.

It all feels so fast. And I’m nowhere near ready. But it’s not about me at all. 

For now, for today’s game, she still looked for me. That is enough. 

Words and Moments

My dad and I loved what he’d call ‘visiting’ with each other. I’ll be real, we both just enjoyed talking and we could certainly each hold our own. Whether at the kitchen table, a restaurant, or especially at a book store with a coffee after some book purchases!

Some talks were anecdotal and humorous. Dad: “Did I ever tell you about…?” Family stories passed down and I was never quite sure what was actual truth and what was embellished in the interest of a good story. I enjoyed them all the same. Still other conversations as adults were deep, meaningful, and sometimes unwieldy. 

In those challenging discussions, we didn’t always agree but it made the interaction more significant. When someone you love and respect presents an opposing viewpoint, you probably should take a pause. At the very least, quit planning the next thing you intend to say and simply be open. Breathe.

I treasured the times dad asked for my opinion because he really wanted to know my thoughts. We’d share quotes and poems from our favorite authors. One was Frederick Buechner. Look him up for his vast CV. Most importantly, Buechner wasn’t afraid to dig deep and question. That immediately made him one of my ‘top ten.’

I sent this quote to dad a few years ago and just re-read it before a wonderfully healing yoga practice:

Dad’s response? “Buechner does it again! I love you the most, Jules.”

Note to self today? Timing is everything. Thanks daddy, I hear you loud and clear.